Scenes Never Seen
by Ink Stained Quill
Summary: Several little discontinuous Drabbles and Snippets with various plots, characters, and themes. Rating will range from K to T. First chapter is Rose/Ten so that's why the characters are classified as such.
1. Frozen Heart

**A/N: Recently I've had lots of Plot Bunnies but not enough to create full stories, just scenes. So, my solution was to just write short drabbles and snippets and post them up here. I might continue them, I might not, but the chapters won't be connected and I have no clue how many chapters this will be. Enjoy! **

**Oh, also, if any of you want to take any scene and run with it, feel free and I'd like it if you credit me or at least tell me so I can read your story!  
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**Also, also, if you want to see a specific scene or have any requests, I'll take them 3**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize as belonging to the BBC or someone-high-up is not mine, obviously. Plots are mine though. **

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**Frozen Heart**

The room was dark as the Doctor crept through it, his sonic screwdriver providing just barely enough light to see where he was putting his feet. He was in a dilapidated manor. According to the locals, it was haunted by a lonely vengeful angel seeking her lost lover. Anyone who ventured into the house disappeared to become her servants.

The Doctor didn't put much credit into the romantic story, but a vengeful angel and disappearing people? Sounded an awful lot like something right up his alley.

A delicate _swish_ echoed around the house and he spun, casting the gentle blue light over his surroundings. The only material was a ratty deep red curtain that might once have been very beautiful. A large armchair stood by a fireplace, which was long since disused. The manor reeked of wealth, yet an air of sadness lingered about the place, as though a tragedy had occurred for the previous inhabitants.

_Perfect for a melancholy angel_, the Doctor mused as he stepped out of the room. He stepped out into a landing, and the floor had crumbled away to the side.  
"Watch out," he called before catching himself. For all of his 'lonely-god' façade, it was disconcerting to not have a companion with him, not have someone to watch out for and show the universe.

He edged around the door frame, his converse just barely brushing the gaping hole at his feet.

When he stepped into the next room, he flinched at the bright sunlight streaming in through the enormous floor length windows. Letting his eyes adjust to the sudden light, he saw that it was a large library. The books were molding and decomposing. Spines littered the floors where they had fallen after tearing from their books. Cobwebs stretched across the shelves, untouched and flourishing.

But the most interesting thing in the room was the wall facing the door. It was not remarkable on its own; the wallpaper had faded into a nondescript grey, part of it hanging torn off the wall. However, gouged into the sturdy wood was a large message:

HELP ME

The Doctor whipped out his glasses, scanning the marks, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Fresh marks," he muttered. "Well, fresh compared to the rest of the house, and made by what looks to be like _claws_." The letters were neat, done with great patience, not desperation, as though the writer had all the time in the world as long as help came eventually.

Another _swish_. He turned around once again, and his eyebrows shot up. The door was swinging gently – someone had just come through. He peered around, trying to find the creature (at least he assumed it was a creature).

"Hello?" he called. No reply. "Alright, look. If you clawed this message here, then I will try to help you, but I can't do anything if I don't know who or what or even where you are." Another _swish_ but this time, a thought accompanied it. A soft tendril of another mind reached out to nudge his own cautiously.

The Doctor only caught a single plea. _Close your eyes_. He frowned. That was such an obvious trap line, although – the presence did seem _exceptionally_ desperate.

"I'm getting senile in my old age," he murmured to himself. Then louder he said, "Alright, I'm closing my eyes." He shut them and instantly became aware of a physical presence in the room. Instinct took over and forced his eyes open. In front of him, its back turned, wings folded, stood a weeping angel. Shock ran through him, but he took a deep breath to calm, forcing himself to think rationally.

The angel had clearly stalked him through the house and yet had made no attempt to attack – _a pacifist?_ He shook his head. No, this angel wanted him to be here, in this library to read this message. Going against every fiber of his being that was screaming at him to run, he shut his eyes once more.

The angel sped toward him, stopping only a hairsbreadth away. When he felt it still, the Doctor opened his eyes and started shocked. The angel's hand was poised beside his face, the back of its fingers near to stroking his cheek in a caress but tense with restraint.

He _knew_ that hand, had held it so many times, had been wrapped in those slender arms more than he could say. He _knew_ the curves to that body better than he knew himself, knew that face, that wide mouth that would curve into a playful smile, those lips he had touched with his own countless times over. The golden locks that had curled gently around his fingers were now frozen in stone; the sparkling hazel eyes that had flashed in his direction reproachfully when he was being too rude-and-not-ginger were now deadened. Her face was a mask of sorrow and longing and the slightest ray of hope.

The Doctor could hardly_ (refused to)_ believe it – _she was gone she was trapped she was safe in another universe with her mum and pete and mickey_ – his mouth moving soundlessly until a single hoarse, despairing, word escaped him.

"Rose…"

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**OK, so I stole the title of this chapter a bit. What can I say? It was playing on my iPod. ;)**


	2. Surprise Visit

**Hey! Another drabble :D I only have one more completed one before I have to finish a few WIPs. This one is Eight/Rose. (She's my favorite by just a teeny bit in case you couldn't tell, although it's hard to not like anyone. Or perhaps that's just me.) Enjoy! **

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**A Surprise Visit**

The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his waved locks. It wasn't the first time someone had turned down his offer of traveling and wonder, but Grace's rejection was bothering him more than any had before. That along with the persistent mental summons from the High Council was giving him a pounding headache. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate the pain.

_If only I was not allergic to aspirin_, he thought ruefully. Painkillers would be nice. The pounding was getting worse, beating out a constant tattoo in his head. He slumped backward in the chair, which the TARDIS had lengthened into a makeshift bed, and tried to fall asleep. He was just starting to be able to ignore the pain when the lock of the TARDIS clicked and the doors burst open. A young girl bounced in closing the doors behind her and chattering away excitedly. She was young, perhaps twenty, and pretty with bright bleached-blonde hair and a wide smile. She walked up the ramp toward the console, digging around in her bag for something.

"Doctor! I bought you something," she was saying. "Thought you might like it, if I ever find it in here. Loving the bigger-on-the-inside but it would be nice if I didn't always lose things." The Doctor just stared at her in bemused amazement.

She finally looked up and shock ran across her face followed swiftly by confusion. The Doctor decided that now might be a good time to step forward.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor," he said getting up. "Can I help you?" The girl turned to him, and her eyebrows shot up in. She burst into giggles. The Doctor was taken aback. That was not the reaction he normally encountered. "Hello? Hello, could you please stop laughing!"

She covered her mouth, trying to hold back her laughs. "S-sorry. It's just that you're so _p-pretty_! Oh, I'm lovin' this." She dissolved into laughter again.

The Doctor huffed, his preening abruptly halted. "I would be flattered, but complements are not usually accompanied by laughter." She looked at him apologetically. "I'm assuming that you know me?" The girl nodded. "What's your name?"

She looked at him reproachfully, tapping him on the nose. "Come on, Doctor. You've taught me better. I can't go about messing with timelines. You know that. Which one are you, anyway?"

"The eighth," the Doctor replied automatically. The girl stiffened, her eyes widening. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," she said, but her face told another story. She looked as though she were about to cry. She backed away hurriedly. "I need to go. There's so much wrong with me being here right now. I have to – have to –" She trailed off, looking at him hard. Dropping her bag, she marched over to him determinedly and he wondered whether he ought to back away. She grabbed him by the front of his coat and pulled him down toward her.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it certainly hadn't been the feel of her soft lips against his, kissing him like her life depended on it. He responded automatically, his hands going to her waist. She was pouring so much love and care into him that he gasped. She took the opening gladly, and to the Doctor's surprise, he let her. Her hands had wound their way into his hair, and he whimpered when she tugged on a few strands. He began to kiss her back aggressively, slanting his mouth over hers as if he was trying to devour her.

She pulled back, gasping and looking wonderfully rumpled. The Doctor's eyes were wide with shock and tinged with the slightest bit of lust.

"You _will_ survive and you _will_ find me," she said, commandingly, tugging on his coat. "Understand?" Her tone was pleading, nearly desperate. He wanted to ask what in his future could possibly be so horrible, but he had a feeling he already knew. The one thing he had been running from all his life.

"Yes ma'am," he said, trying for some lightheartedness.

"Good." She released his lapels, smoothing her hands down his chest. "Be seein' you." She grabbed her bag, pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth and sauntered out of the TARDIS, stroking the wall and whispering affectionately to it as she left. The TARDIS hummed, its equivalent of a catcall, and the Doctor raised an eyebrow at the time rotor. She mentally prodded him, urging him to sleep, and he yawned in accordance. As he trudged off to his rarely used room, he reflected with a smile that his headache was gone. Quite a cure-all, his mystery girl.

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**Hm, yes. So? **


	3. A Royal Upset

**A/N: I have committed a grave error with no excuse except for the flimsy "Stuff happened + writer's block". I promised ButterflyGoesMoo a "Girl in the Fireplace" fix-it fic ages ago, but it just wasn't coming together, so I tried to rewrite it about four million times before I was mildly happy. So, before I make you wait any longer though, here it is!  
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**Well, that said, I've always been kind of annoyed with the lack of substance in Reinette's character in the episode when she was pretty epic in history. That just turned the episode into a "whiny/clingy girl meets Doctor who apparently loses his common sense at sight of pretty girl and proceeds to act like a complete idiot" fest. Plus, I think Rose is smarter than people give her credit for and feisty enough to not sit quietly and to give the Doctor a piece of her mind. (she is Jackie's daughter after all). SO... all that led to a slightly unconventional fix-it. Hope you enjoy.  
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**Disclaimer: I disclaim.**

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**A Royal Upset**

Five and a half hours. That's how long it took for the Doctor to come back after charging past the point-of-no-return for some rich courtesan with a pretty face and an obnoxiously frilly dress.

Rose frowned, mentally scolding herself for being so petty. Reinette had not asked to be a part of any of this, had not asked to be hunted by maniacal clockwork robots, had not asked for the Doctor to pine over her…

Rose mentally slapped herself again.

Either way, five and a half hours had given her plenty of time to think (in other words, distract herself from acting like a jealous school-girl), and the TARDIS, seeming to know exactly what Rose needed, neatly redirected her to the library, leaving her to browse the shelves.

Rose knew, grudgingly, that the Doctor was not the type to be distracted by simply money or beauty. No, for him, brains and skills were sexy, which meant the Madame had to be loaded with both, and Rose's curiosity was starting to equal her dislike.

Finding a promising book, she pulled it out to read. Four hours later, she was still reading, a pile of books next to her, engrossed in Reinette's life. She was _fascinated_, wishing more than anything that she had had more time to speak to the woman.

Only a loud thud brought her back to – well, not Earth – the TARDIS, and she hurried into the console room.

With a few hurried words, the Doctor had returned and dashed away equally quickly. Barely a few minutes later, he walked back in, dejected, and Rose _knew_.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly, pointlessly.

"I'm always alright," he replied, turning away to idly fiddle with levers that she knew messed with the lights near the pool. She left him standing there, knowing there was nothing she could do. Going to the kitchen, Rose took her time brewing two steaming mugs of tea, and waited patiently. As if on cue, the Doctor slouched in, throwing her a grateful smile, mixed with something she couldn't really identify.

She pushed the tea toward him, sitting across the bar and sipping her own drink slowly. He reached for the cup but did not drink, instead warming his hands and watching the steam spiral into interesting shapes. Still, Rose waited for him to speak.

The Doctor suddenly broke the pregnant silence. "She wasted all those years waiting for me." His voice was laced with sadness, self-loathing, and pity. That last emotion sparked something in Rose, something angry and indignant.

"Wasted?" she asked disbelievingly, shaking her head. The Doctor looked startled at her contemptuous tone. Rose didn't care. Sometimes, even the Doctor needed someone to curb his attitude. "She had one of the best educations of her time. She could recite plays by heart, sing, dance, paint, and play piano. She was a proficient actress and had some of the most famous masters of their fields for her tutors. Not to mention, she met people like Voltaire in her salons, _and_ she was the mistress of the King of France, whom she impressed so much that they remained amazing friends even after their relationship ended. And, she was the only mistress whom the Queen didn't totally hate.

"Then after all that, she had the privilege of meeting you, and even then, that was barely before she died. Now, does that sound like she _wasted_ any of her time?" Rose drained her now-cold tea in one gulp and stood, leaving the Doctor with a few last words to ponder. "So you were something new – you offered her a new adventure – but she had so much more to her life than you," she paused and laughed softly. "Look at that. I don't know why I'm defending her so much, but I think it's because I want to be like her."

The Doctor expression morphed from shock to horror at this. "You're – you can't – you're not leaving me, are you?" He sounded scared of her answer, and deep inside Rose was both touched and unsettled by his sudden vulnerability.

"No," she said slowly, "but I can't spend my whole life hangin' on your coattails, can I? I just mean that I'm not stupid, and I've started to realize that if I try, then I can be more than just some random kid you picked up to show the universe to. I want to be valued because of my own merits, like she was. Not because I'm cute and dumb."

"You're not cute and dumb," he said automatically, and then fumbled. "I mean, you're plenty cute, cute and pink-and-yellow and Rose-shaped, but not dumb."

Rose smiled, and the Doctor was comforted by its familiarity, but he could see, in the depths of her eyes, a glint of passion and intelligence that had been suppressed for so long. His hearts swelled with pride. She was so wonderful. He had been such an _arse_ to her and yet she didn't get upset – just put him in his place and went along like nothing had happened with a silent understanding.

"I think that you, Rose Tyler, will be absolutely _fantastic_ if you put your mind to it," he told her sincerely. She kissed him on the cheek for that.


End file.
